Closed Doors

God, I don't think im ready
my confidence is drowning like a Louisiana levee
I don't feel prepared
and all that comes won't be shared
I don't posses what I feel is mine
I feel like i've forgotten how to rhyme
I'm hungry like im poor
and I keep meeting up with closed doors
But when I go where I go, sometimes I get lost
I get led on and I get forgot
So I approach life anxiously
because I know more pain waits for me

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Fear often holds us back in one way or another... Confort is often hard to find... Sometimes it is because you need to make some changes in what you are looking for... Your poem opens many questions... Well said... Much is implied.